Untitled
by Jumping Bean
Summary: A fairy tale involving a half breed, a police officer and a woman scorned


Untitled

Okay readers (wow a reader -) this is a story that my friend, ihopeudance and I wrote over aim, so to ihopeudance, I changed things so it would run a bit smoother. No major changes except the car is thier nieghbours car because I don't think they could afford a car with onstar. To everyone else there are alot mistakes because notebook doesn't translate well to (Yeah right I have horrible spelling and grammar. Sorry ihopeudance.)

Without further delay, here is the first chapter on Untitled;

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A cold and frigid spray of salt and water hurled and trashed violently over the beat up Honda. Thus the car rocked dangerously on the wet rocks the tires precariously rested on. The wheels, slippery with the heavy rainfall, at any given moment at and given time would be swept out to sea, car and all. The constant threat of being grabbed by the seas angry foamy fingers terrified the poor trapped child witless.

The child huddled under his too-small sweater, clutching his arm, terrified. He could care less about the liquid staining the foreign seats "Mom?" He whispered his voice crocked. His diminutive voice was easily drowned out by the thunder like roar of the ocean. "Mommy?" he rasped again.

He unfastened his seat belt and climbed over the passenger seat, careful not to disturb his arm, to reach the front where his mother slumped against the wheel. His mother had passed out; in her state of innocuousness she refused to let go of the wheel. The safety belt dug into her flesh around her neck and stomach, her mouth open with effort. Grating and wheezing sounds come from her lungs. It was as though Tonia Benkinfield was dead, the only thing her darling offspring could do was shout and cry to a deaf world.

Miracles happen in slow dosages. Although Tonia and her baby where both still alive at the moment, neither mother nor son would probably be alive long enough to marvel at there good fortune. Especially with factors such as the ocean, which seemed intent on working the wheels from the rocks. There was also the rain, which cheered on the ocean with large savage raindrops and a booming voice. It succeeded in making the sea fiercer. It was only a matter of time before they were swept out to sea and died a sailor's death.

The little boy, even through his rose tinted glasses of innocence, knew that it wasn't going to be all right. He knew that his mother wasn't just sleeping and somehow he knew that crying about it wouldn't do much either. He reached for his mother's beat up purse and desperately searched through every pocket and between every neatly organized coupon. His mother was known to forget her mobile phone from time to time he just hoped today wasn't one of those days.

He threw the empty purse aside; tears of frustration and panic clouded his vision. What was more his arm had begun throbbing, his energy began draining away. He shook his head, he couldn't rest he wanted to see the policemen when they came to the rescue.

Sadly to beyond the child's understanding the policemen he idolized had no way to get through to them. With all the debris in the storm there was no possible way any emergency vehicles could get though. Not only that, but who would be stupid enough to brave such a treacherous shore during a storm?

The child rested his head against his mother's lap; he reached out and touched a blue button with a star on it. He liked the color blue at least his hazy mind seemed to think so, so he pushed it. Out of sheer dumb luck he pressed an OnStar button. Neither Tonia nor her son had ever heard of OnStar, it was after all, their neighbor's car.

"Hello. This is OnStar I am Nancy how may I help you?" A voice came from nowhere. To a tired child it seemed the voice of a savior.

He mumbled, "Will you help me and my mommy?" Then he fell asleep against his mother's warm bosom. In the mists of his hazy brain he saw a soaked figure peering through the window, what weird eyes, almost like a fire truck's color.

Outside in the unbearable inhumane conditions stood a man peering into the car trying to grasp the situation the two trapped inside were in. His right foot carefully wedged between to rocks so he wouldn't slip and be swept put to sea, the other stood in the ocean, water seeping into his shoes freezing his foot to the very bone. To his displeasure he realized he was ruining his favorite pair of boots. They best be thankful or there shall be Hel to pay.

The man was able to break the door, pulling it clean off the hinges in one fluid motion. Then He swiftly cut through the seat belt holding Tonia to her prison with a pocketknife with inhuman speed. He then pulled out the little boy and his mother from the wreck.

Having the mother securely across his shoulders and the lanky little boy tucked underneath his arm, the boy's arm hung at a strange, abnormal angle. The strange man trekked up the steep cliff, back to the road and to his vehicle. Out of breath he reached his van and gently put them down, propped up against the side of his van. He winced and the dirt and gravel that stained their clothing.

After a few good minutes digging in his pockets looking for his keys, he realized that he had left them in his car. He had absant mindedly left them behind when he spotted the Honda, now he was locked out. No matter, he broke the window with a gloved hand and opened the doors. The man then laid the two unconscious victims out in the back of his strange black van with a relieved sigh and worked out the kinks in his shoulders.

The man softly closed the back doors after making sure the cut across the young mother's forehead was covered with an emergency bandage, the child's arm in a home made split. The man thanked whatever star was beaming down on him that the child was out cold while he set the bone. The wrappings on both Benkinfields were sloppy but it would do for now. He brushed his soaked bangs out of his eyes and climbed into the drivers seat. He had always hated driving these huge machines. They were too big and dangerous, and smelled like poison.

Unfortunately the police agency insisted saying it was faster and low key. Low key his ass; it was a fricken VAN. It looked like something the FBI would drive, if anything, it was as sketchy as a man with a gun walking into a bank. That and it wasn't exactly the trendiest car in the world. However it was either drive a van or face the consequences. He kept driving the monstrosity despite loathing the machine down to its metal guts

A little while after he had gotten the car started and back on the road, the stranger's keen ears picked up the sound of shuffling. _The kid's awake,_ he realized, and listened intently for more movement, for the sound of a limp or a telltale sign of the child being more injured then just a broken arm. The child cautiously poked his nose between the driver's seat and the passenger's seat like a little mouse.

"Hey, kid," said the man in what he hoped was a friendly and not scary tone. He never was any good with children, or people for that matter. The child didn't start crying so he took that as a good sign and plowed on, asking what the kid's name was.

"David" he said, and that was all. But the child did seem satisfied with what ever he came to the front to see, and retreated to the back of the van. David went back to sleep, curled to his still un-awake mother, leaving the man alone in the front. The stranger rubbed his chin and nodded, turning his attention back to the road, cursing his blind spots, as he just barely missed a red sports car.

When David woke up for the third time, his small body rested on a padded bench, and a policeman, that he had never seen before had dozed off beside him. It took David a few moments to realize he was at a police station, surrounded by strange people in uniforms. Their shoes clicked smartly on the polished floor. Gathering up his courage he slide of the bench and wandered into a stampede of busy policemen and woman. Being short he picked a leg to ask where his mother was, and gained their attention by pulling onto their pant leg.

Finally after being brush past, the third policewoman was willing to help. After checking files and asking him his name at least six times, she told him his mother was sleeping. Although no one knew for sure if she would make it or not the policewoman smiled sweetly and sent him on his way with a pat on the head and a red lollipop. This of course, disturbed the young boy deeply. Rather then stay in one place like the police officers told him to, he instead decided to explore, looking for his mother or the man that had saved them.  
The station wasn't very extravagant, there were a few rooms with desks and computers and stacks of papers. However, unlike other police stations there was a convient hosptial conjoined at the police station's hip thanks to stratic thinking from a fireman in the late 1950's. Unfortunatly (and everyone blames this on the architect rather then the idealist.) You could literly walk down the hallway and see the transition from small cells and then white, steirl hospital rooms.

The young boy wandered by this very hallway, peering caustiously into the cells, he had never seen a real, live bad guy before. The first cell was empty, but the next was occupied by two men slung lazily amongst the hard benches. It's a educated guess that they had both been terribly disoriented from the assumtion of a form of drug or another. Hell stoned out of there freaken' minds would be a better discribtion.

The man closer to the bars gave the little boy an odd creepy smile that would make even the bravest of man run in fear. David did just that. David quickly turned his tail and ran in the other direction, and directly into a pair of blue standard police pants. Craning his neck back to look up, he saw the bewildered face of his current hero, the man who had saved him. The man with the fire truck, red eyes

The man stared down at the small mousy-haired child for a moment, and then bent over and picked him up. He carried David back to the bench with the still snoozing poilce man and told him him to stay put. They could not have small childern running around in such a dangerous place. The man sounded like his was threating David, his overly cautious soft voice from the van had gone. David couldn't care less, and just assumed the man was trying to sound stern.

"Stay here, kid. I don't need a child giving me anymore grief then I already got." He told David

"No," David protested, much to the policeman's surprise. David then clamped on tightly to the man's right arm. "I want to see my mom!" and no matter what the man did David held on tight. Finally, after much arm waving, shouting, begging, attempted bribing and attempted reasoning, the man gave up and let David be.

"Alright kid, listen your mom is resting right now in the hospital okay?" The man told David, David nodded, his grip on the man's arm tightened.

"Will I see her soon? She didn't lose an arm did she?" The thing that most surprised the Policeman about the child was his ability to ask ten completely irrelevant questions in one breath. David asked thinks like, where was his mother (a given), why is the police uniform blue, and how come aardvark is spelled with two a's all came out in the same sentence. (Among other questions that were lost due to 'speed-talking' on David's part.)

The very confused policeman wasn't quit sure where to begin answering all the questions. The man however felt it was fair to tell the child where Tonia 'rested' after all he was family, and it was cruel to keep the child in the dark. Tonia was in a hospital ward at the station. While she 'rested' other police officers were trying to locate Davids closest (acording to geography) relatives who might be able to come to watch him for a while.

"They don't speak to us anymore," David told the man, "Mom said once that we'd be fine by ourselves. So who needs lots of presents for Chrismas. And then she burned the ham, and then she said stuff that I'm not aloud to say, and then she tried to take it out of the oven and burned her finger, and then she said more bad things that I can't say, not even when I'm grown up. She still has a scar, she said it looks like a hand but I think it looks like an octopus. You have a cool scar too, right there, it looks like a line."

The man looked down sadly at him, partially because he lost the young boy after the ham bit, and partially because having no family was sad. Everyone diserves to have a cousin or two to run around with. The man opened his mouth to tell David so, but he was cut off.

"Ventura! Where the hell is your badge?" A loud bark echoed behind David's hero. "I told you that you have to wear all of your uniform" I don't care if the color doesn't show off your eyes! Wear your damn uniform!" The red-eyed man grumbled and turned to face a dumpy sort of man with salt and pepper hair. The wide man wore a tie and a nametag proclaiming his title as police chief.

"Yes sir, it won't happen again." The taller man assured the chief. The man pulled a nametage badge from his pocket, then half-heartedly pinned it to his shirt. It was slightly crooked. The nametag read Sheldon Ventura. Next the name in black bold professional letters, was a small picture of the man, except his hair was alot longer and alot brighter red. Either the hair had dulled quite drasticly in a span of like, five years, or the man had dyed it.

Sheldon watched as the chief, having nothing else to nit pick at, lost interest and waddled back to his office. Sheldon then returned his attention to the wide-eyed boy in front of him, and felt horrible about the whole situation.

Sheldon hated cases like these he hated cases in general. What a negative life I lead he thought bitterly, rubbing the scar on his chin a nervous habit. "Look, David, throw me a bone, anything, what am I supposed to do with you?"

"I don't know" answered the small, innocent looking boy. "You could take me to see my mom." What stubborn boy.

After an uncomfortable silence passed, then settled around them Sheldon, finding nothing else to do with him, allowed David to come back to the office with him. The odd pair had just gotten settled, the cop behind the desk and the child drawing in pen on the floor, when the rest of the squad came pooring in.

The squad, from distance informed Sheldon that Tonia seemed to be in stable condition. They added politly that she would live. This was fantastic news for a person, but for a cop... Because, she suffered from a concussion and didn't remember much about the accident.

"Shit." Sheldon muttered, running his hand through his hair. He caught David's eye and reliazed what he had said, "oh, oops forgive my language, kid."

The good news wasn't over apparently. The detectives at the crime scene had studied the skid marks to find that the car crash had not been just an accident.

"Double Shit."

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Well, there you go. I hope I didn't waste away your life.

Of course feedback is very much appresiated (one day I _will_ learn how to spell)

Jumping Bean


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